Recover
by PepperVaughn
Summary: **Sequel to Reflection** The Winchesters fight to find a way to rid Castiel of his curse. As the Angel remains trapped in the Dungeon the brothers search for Rowena or a cure. When Dean reaches out to Lydia, a folklore expert, it brings the two of them closer together.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The blood was still dripping down his face. It rimmed his eyes and slid down his checks to his scruff covered jaw. The once white collar of his shirt was now a dark brown from the drying blood, thick and stiff against his neck. The stain was starting to spread further down, past his shoulders to his chest.

The blood unnerved Sam at this point. Two months of watching his friend shake and rage in the dungeon and the blood still rattled his core. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that it seemed never ending or the fact that Castiel was completely oblivious to it.

"We're looking into it, Cas." Sam said, forcing confidence. "Dean thinks he's got it. We'll have this taken care of soon." Castiel didn't seem to hear the words. He raged, striking out at the magic that bound him. The force should have hurt him, but he didn't slow or stop. The attack-dog curse Rowena had placed on him had turned him near rabid. That rabid need to get through the angel warding to bring Sam down was all that kept Castiel from realizing that the words Sam said were the same the Winchesters had been saying for 2 months.

When they'd arrived home from the Doppelganger hunt in California, they'd found Cas standing in the bunker, blood dripping from his eyes and coating his hands. He had been lucid for a few minutes. Enough to ask for help before he lost himself to the curse again. He ran up the stairs to where the hunters stood. He'd lost the fight, but not by enough. Both brothers were sporting bleeding cuts, black eyes, and bruises. It didn't faze them, it never really did. They took the subdued Angel down to the basement dungeon and placed him inside a devil's trap painted on the floor. Sam spent an hour painting Enochian warding around the devil's trap making it function as both a Demon's trap and an Angel trap.

Then it was to the library. They'd scoured books, files, and video of the Men of Letters. There was nothing. None of the witch files or spell books even scratched the surface of what was needed to help Castiel come back to himself. If he'd been human, he'd have died within hours of the spell, but the Angel grace in him kept him moving. Sam hated to see it, and Dean refused. He'd started avoiding the basement within days of Castiel being kept there. Sam had watched him pour over books until his frustration forced him out continue the quest for Rowena, the only witch who seemed to know this spell.

Sam could only watch the rampaging image of his friend for a few more minutes.

"I'll be back, Cas. Hang in there." He said with a furrowed brow before heading out. Dungeon door closed with a whoosh of air and heavy clunk that Sam felt in the pit of his stomach. Closing his eyes, Sam took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. He gathered his resolve, using it to set his shoulders back and his jaw tight before heading back to the library.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The alarm blared on the bedside table, screeching in Lydia's ears. Her heart raced and she sat up quickly, slamming the button to turn it off. It took a few minutes to steady her jumpy breathing and quiet her pounding heart. Very little light slipped though the heavily covered glass windows, hitting the carpet through the gap between the curtain and the wall.

The daily first step of calming herself was followed by the search for her phone. She'd had it in her hand before she drifted off, now it was lost among the blankets. A few minutes of patting and digging and Lydia found her phone the under the duvet near her hip. Turning it on, she searched through her notifications. A handful of emails, a text from one of the library assistants who was too sick to work and finally a text from Dean.

 _No, I haven't been able to find her. Trying to chase down some of the people I know are looking for her._ Lydia frowned at his message. He'd seemed so frustrated since he left California. He hadn't told her who he was looking for, she only knew that he needed to find this woman for something important.

 _You're asleep again, aren't you?_

 _Night, Lye._ Lydia's heart fluttered at the sweetness in the messages. She hadn't expected to hear from Dean again after he left. A week after, she'd gotten a text asking how she was doing. After that he asked about her work. They talked nearly everyday, serious conversations and mundane ones. The only thing he didn't seem to tell her is what was going on that he needed to find someone so badly.

 _Sorry,_ She typed out to him _I keep falling asleep on you. Good luck with your search today. Let me know how it goes._ Plugging her phone in, Lydia got up and headed for the shower. Turning the bathroom light on, Lydia flinched. Her eyes glued to the shower in front of her, fighting to keep her gaze away from the mirror. She showered quickly, toweling off and hurrying out of the room to get dressed. Searching through the closet she pulled out a pair of gray slacks and a white blouse that tied in a loose bow that shaped the v-neck. Tucking the top in and blousing it out, She slipped into a pair of black pumps and headed back to the bathroom to face her reflection.

She took a deep breath, like every morning, and faced the mirror with purpose. The image of herself in the mirror caused her hands to shake slightly, but she forced herself through her make-up and hair curling. Since she'd faced her doppelganger and nearly been killed, she couldn't see anything in her reflection but that stony-eyed monster that had taken her face. Once she was ready, Lydia fled the room, heading quickly down the stairs to get to the Library.

After a stop for coffee, Lydia pulled up to the Santa Maria Public Library and headed upstairs to the stacks. Seeing her desk, Lydia's mind drifted to Dean and how he'd felt against her, pushing her down on the desk. Her cheeks flushed and her stomach clinched but she moved forward with a smile.

After a day of ordering new stock, Lydia was bored and tired, The library was closed and empty and she was just packing up her stuff when her phone buzzed. Lydia tried to push her hope down as she picked it up in case it wasn't Dean. But there was no need, the name flashed on the screen Dean Winchester and Lydia opened the message without reading the preview.

 _Lye, I need a favor. My friend is sick and I don't know how to help him. Can you come to Kansas?_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean wasn't entirely sure what had compelled him to ask Lydia to come to the bunker. He knew she was good with research, but pulling her into witchcraft and angels seemed like more of a fall off a cliff then a jump to the next level of knowledge. Her run in with a doppelganger had been her first taste of the world of monsters. That one hunt had gotten her chased and nearly killed. Now, he was dragging her back in, deeper, and into more dangerous territory.

But he needed the help. He needed someone who could help Sam scour the books, who was familiar with the lore and could help them put together the pieces. It was only a matter of time before Cas's vessel gave out under the stress of the curse and he wasn't about to let that happen.

Tucking his phone in his pocket, he pushed himself up off the fender of the Impala, where he'd been leaning after stopping for some food. A thumping sound echoed through the empty diner parking lot and Dean rolled his eyes. His hand went to the the Angel Blade, tucked into the back of his jeans. Pulling it out, he popped the trunk and stared down at the demon bound in the trunk, glaring through the sudden light at Dean.

The meat suit this particular demon was sporting was young and gangly. Short-cropped and mousy hair and ashy skin. He was sweating profusely, turning pink in the cheeks.

"If you dent my trunk, you'll be drinking holy water till judgment day." Blade pointed menacingly at the Demon's throat. "Got it?" The demon said nothing, but shifted his position where he couldn't kick at the metal framework.

Satisfied, Dean slammed the trunk closed, dropping the devil's trap painted on it down closer to his cargo. His phone buzzed in his pocket he pulled it before climbing into his driver's seat.

 _I'll take the first flight out. Address?_ Lydia had answered. A smile crept onto Dean's face.

The house creaked and groaned as the wind whistled by. It was condemned and falling down, but serving it's purpose. The demon, Mickey, was now tied down to a chair, with a Devil's trap painted on the ceiling above him. He was wet, smoking from Holy water, and panting in pain. His once pink cheeks were nearly purple from the blood rushing to his head as he screamed and begged. Cuts marred most of his exposed body, bloodying the suit he wore.

"Tell me!" Dean bellowed, temper lost. "Tell me where Crowley is looking for Rowena!"

"I-" Mickey panted "-don't know. He doesn't tell me."

"Where?" Dean asked, voice dropping to a menacing growl. He dropped his body down, arms resting on Mickey's bound wrists so that he was face to face with the Demon.

"I don't know." Dean moved quickly, stabbing the Angel Blade through Mickey's wrist. The bones shifted and cracked around the blade and Mickey screamed endlessly, high and keening.

"Where!" Dean pulled the blade out slowly, spinning it as he did. Mickey screamed, no intelligible words coming out. Frustrated, Dean gave up. He ripped the blade the remaining inch out of Mickey's wrist before turning and slamming it into his chest. Light flashed in Mickey's veins and he slumped in the chair, finally quiet.

Demon's weren't loyal. He knew that. So after torturing six and getting no information, it was easy to come to the conclusion that no one knew where Rowena was. Still frustrated, Dean cleaned the blade off on Mickey's clothes and headed out for the Impala.

Nearly half way to the bunker, Dean got a text from Lydia.

 _Got a flight into Hays. Be there by 11am tomorrow._ Dean furrowed his brow. Twelve hours of travel over night, he was asking a lot out of her.

 _Are you sure you don't mind?_

 _Shut up, Dean. I'll be there soon._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lydia yawned, staring out at the flat land around the highway road and the rising hills and forest in the distance. The cab driver had stared at her pretty funny when she asked to be taken out here from the airport, but for the fare he was going to get, he didn't say anything. It'd been a long drive, but as they got within a mile of the address Dean has provided, Lydia, started gathering her stuff.

"You can stop here." She said, tucking the now straightening strands of her hair behind her ears and pulling her duffle and purse into her lap.

"You sure?" He said with that midwestern tone he had. "Ain't nothin' out here but fields."

"This is fine, The plan was to hike." She smiled. Nothing had been said, but Lydia had a feeling that where ever Dean and Sam Winchester called home, it was off the books and off the grid. The driver shrugged and Lydia handed him her credit card.

The car drove off, leaving Lydia standing in a cloud of dust on the side of the highway. Coughing a bit, she took off down the road. The late morning sun wasn't too warm and the fresh air coming off the fields was actually kind of refreshing. The gravel on the side of the road crunched under her boots as she walked the near mile to a turn off on the left. According to her GPS, this was the way. Satisfied, Lydia turned down that road and walked another half a mile. It was starting to warm up now and Lydia stopped to pull her top layer shirt off, leaving herself in a tank top. She shoved it in her bag and kept walking, in the distance the were hills starting to rise and the fields turned to sparse trees and scrub brush; a brick building started to peek out from between the trees.

"You have arrived at your destination." The voice called from her pocket. Lydia looked around, The building on the hill looked worn and unused. The windows were stained and filthy. At the base of the hill by the muddy road was a door built into what looked like a drainage tunnel. Disbelief rose up in her mind, but Lydia read the address on her GPS and compared it to the address Dean had sent her.

 _I'm outside, maybe._ She sent, staring skeptically at the door. Nothing happened for a few minutes, just the sound of birds in the trees hopping from branch to branch. It was only a few minutes, but Lydia stared at her phone screen expectantly, ready to call Dean if he didn't answer in the next 10 seconds. Finally, the sound of a bolt being thrown on the door echoed in the near silence around her. The door swung open and Dean stepped out into the day light.

He looked tired, like he'd aged in the two months since she'd met him. Even so, he was as handsome as ever and the sight of him caused Lydia's throat to clinch. He smiled tiredly, and looked her up and down. She felt like he noticed the weight that she'd lost or the bags under her eyes and she was suddenly self conscious. She could tell he was as well. There was an awkwardness about seeing each other. They'd only seen each other for a total of two days and in that time they'd slept together twice, there was a monster hunt, and then Dean had left.

"You make it okay?" Dean asked finally.

"Trip wasn't bad. Slept most of the flight." She smiled, closing the gap between them finally. "You live in the middle of nowhere." She added, smiling at him.

"Part of the job. Come on in." Dean reached up and pulled the duffle bag from Lydia's shoulder. The brush of his warm hand against her shoulder gave her goosebumps. Stepping inside, Dean closed the door behind them and Lydia couldn't see anything. She felt Dean's hand at her elbow, guiding her down a short hallway.

At the end of the hallway, she saw light and walked out onto a landing with a rod iron railing. Below her a concert floor with chairs pulled around a table that was light from inside, a map of the world painted on it. The walls were ceiling to floor subway tile and on the far right wall very old machines stood with blinking lights and dials.

"Welcome to the Men of Letters Bunker." Dean said. Lydia turned to meet his gaze, only to see him smirking at her.

"It's pretty cool." She said rolling her eyes at him.

"Wait till you see _my_ library." He laughed, pulling her towards the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean showed Lydia around the bunker, all the major spots. He watched her wrinkle her nose at their dirty kitchen, wander the garage with admiration, her eyebrows furrow as she investigated the machines and old computer in the computer room, and finally walked her through the library.

"Every book on lore is in this room." Dean said as Lydia walked the shelves, fingers trailing on the spines or each book.

"I could spend years in here reading these." She said quietly, as if the presence of books took her voice. Dean smiled at the thought of her in the library at all hours, nose in book, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose.

"Let me show your room, then you can come make yourself comfortable."

"You're stalling, Dean." She said, spinning on him and pursing her lips in that stern librarian way. Dean narrowed his eyes.

"I am not stalling. You just got here."

"Your friend is-" she made air quotes "sick. You asked me to come to Kansas for help. You wouldn't have done that if it wasn't important. You've been chasing some woman that you can't find presumably to help your friend. You're stalling." She'd closed the gap on him again, like outside. He could smell her perfume, it was distracting but the harsh look in her eyes kept him from making a move.

"It's complicated."

"Well then, you'd better explain it."

"Lydia-" She moved away from him and sat down at one of the tables in the library. Crossing her arms at the table she stared at him.

"He's cursed. This old witch cursed him and we can't figure out how to break it." Lydia nodded.

"He's gone full rage zombie. He'll murder anyone in front of him. This curse normally kills the people that are cursed by it, but not before they kill the target." Dean moved toward her as he spoke, wanting to keep the scent of her perfume close. He got close enough to let his fingertips brush the table top, but didn't sit.

"Normally?"

"My friend isn't human." Dean said he left a pause for her to react, she didn't. She just waited.

"He's an angel." He watched her hazel eyes widen for a second, her cheeks flushing.

"Angels?" Dean nodded to her. "G-God?" Dean nodded again.

"He's missing though." He added.

"Well, that explains a lot." She laughed. "And Hell?"

"Yeah, it's run by an entitled douche." She laughed again, soft and light and Dean couldn't fight a smile.

"Where is your friend now?"

"Cas is in the dungeon." He said and winced, expecting her to freak out. She blinked once, her eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment but then let it go.

"Can I see him?"

"No."

"Dean-"

"No. He's dangerous."

"You think I can help heal him without knowing what I'm looking for."

"I didn't ask you to come here to get you nearly killed again." He saw her wince.

"No," Her voice had dropped back down to a soft, near whisper "you asked me for help. Let me help." She stood up and moved close to him. It set Dean on guard but she pushed herself between the table and Dean, her hands moving to lay flat on his chest.

"Dean, you're worried about him. Let me see what I can do. I'm not promising anything. I wasn't even sure witchcraft was a thing before today, and now I know about angels. But I want to try." Dean sighed, closing his eyes for several long seconds. The warmth of her hands through his shirt making his hair stand on end.

"Yeah, ok." He said, keeping his eyes closed to avoid her triumphant smile. He felt her shift, then her lips against his cheek, before she moved away from him and he looked up to see her walking toward the door.

"Which way to the dungeon?"


End file.
